a city with no stars
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: "If you hadn't shown up when you did, I might have taken those." / "And if you hadn't called when you did, I'd be halfway to Alabama by now."


**This doesn't really need much of an explanation. My two favorite Liars are complete trainwrecks right now, and the show is giving us no Sparia, so I needed to do something with my feels - and here we are. This was inspired by two amazing one-shots by KelseyO - 'just hold me down' and 'many times before' - so if you like this story definitely go check those out. This is set at the end of 4x21, so spoilers until then. This is actually one of my lighter stories - until I kill everyone off. (Kidding. Or am I? You'll see.) So yes. Read and enjoy, and if you do, please review. Here you go!**

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_"When you live in a city with no stars to wish on, you have to wish on each other."_

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**8.27.**

Aria glances at the clock and then away again, measuring her tiredness against the time. If she weren't so furious with everyone and everything, sheer emotional exhaustion would have caused her to pass out hours ago. As it is she's still running on adrenalin, but that has to give out soon. She decides that if she hasn't found anywhere to stop in the next hour, she'll pull over at the nearest motel and spend the night there.

Running away isn't the answer; she knows that. She's very aware that this is a selfish, impulsive thing to do, but in all honesty she doesn't care. Rosewood is suffocating her, and she needs to get away. It's not as black and white as all that, of course – there's the uncertainty about where she's going to go, the guilt over not telling her friends she was leaving, the blind panic that starts gripping her whenever she thinks of Ezra and his goddamn book. So she simplifies it in her mind: Rosewood doesn't feel like home, so anywhere else must be better.

She's not sure how long she's been driving for, but a feeling of loneliness is starting to creep up on her. When was the last time she came this far alone? Normally she's in the car with her three best friends, going to hunt down another clue or try to prove another theory. Either that or she was with Ezra, but she knows that's not going to happen again. Like hell she's ever going to get in a car with him after what she found out.

And since she can't stand pity, she can't go to her friends either. So she'll keep driving, until she reaches the end of her rope or the end of the road – and the further from Rosewood, the better.

**Seventeen pills.**

Spencer has counted them three times now, just to be sure. There are seventeen little pills left in the bottle that A gave her; it's enough to get her through the week, but some morbidly curious – and slightly detached – part of her is wondering what would happen if she took them all right now. It would overload her system, probably send her into some kind of shock. It might even kill her, if no one found her in time.

At this moment, if someone were to ask Spencer Hastings if she wanted to die, she wouldn't know how to answer. She doesn't want to live like this, that's for sure. Her friends don't trust her, her family is trying to force her into rehab, and even her boyfriend can't look her in the eye. And the sad thing is that she can't blame any of this on A. Aside from this last bottle, placed so temptingly in her locker at school, A hasn't contributed to her downfall at all. This has all been her, and that makes it all the more tragic.

She gives herself a second, one last chance to reconsider, and then she picks up the bottle. Tips a pill into her hand, closes her fist around it. Then she uncurls her fist and tips another pill onto her palm, and then one more. Her fingers twitch, her heartbeat quickens, and suddenly all seventeen pills are collected in the curve of her palm. She stares at them, her vision going out of focus, her hand shaking. Then she tips them back in, one by one, and sets the bottle back on her bed.

In a daze she pulls out her phone, dials a number before she even realizes what she's doing. A voice crackles down the line and she lifts the phone to her ear, trying to remember how to form words, the words that she couldn't quite say when her family confronted her earlier.

_I need help._

**Four rings.**

Then Aria picks up. She's not sure why, because just today hadn't she so vehemently declared that she didn't want her friends to help? Hadn't she voiced her intention to strike off on her own, cut everyone out until she could get herself together (or until there weren't enough pieces of her left for them to pick up)? But the name flashes across the screen, and before she knows it she's answering.

"Spencer, don't even bother." She cradles the phone between her ear and her shoulder, keeping her eyes on the road. "Hanna and Emily already tried, so don't you start in on me too. I'm leaving."

There's a silence so long that Aria thinks she imagined the call.

"I-I'm sorry," Spencer says softly, her voice small and faint and full of just enough despair to cause Aria's heart to flutter in alarm.

"Wait," Aria says quickly, sensing her friend is about to hang up. She pauses, gathering her thoughts and her courage, making a decision. It wouldn't be too hard to push Spencer away – she's already done it with the other two girls. But something stops her. "Are you… are you okay?"

"I'm…" Spencer's voice grows fainter, and Aria feels her slipping away. "I don't know."

Before Aria can say another word, the line goes dead.

**Eight times.**

That's how many times Spencer has promised herself that she's going to call Toby. Because she promised him, didn't she? She said she was done with the pills, and that she would call him if she needed help. But she can't do that to him. She's picked up her phone a few times too, halfway through dialing his number before she remembers that she can't. She's already put him through so much; he shouldn't have to help her through her withdrawal as well.

Spencer sinks to the floor, still holding her phone. A minute passes, then another, and slowly she comes out of her daze. The room comes back into focus, shadowy features taking shape and becoming clearer, and suddenly the light is too bright. She wants to turn it off, but she doesn't trust herself to stand up. So she backs up until she's against the wall, and she covers her eyes with her hands, blocking out the light and the world. But it doesn't block out her feelings.

As if it happened in a dream, Spencer begins to realize what she's just done. Had she really called Aria? She'd hardly been aware of it, had hardly registered Aria's voice on the other end of the line. And as soon as she knew Aria was busy, she'd hung up. That was the right thing to do, of course it was. She doesn't want to be a burden.

Eyes still closed, she tries to think of something to keep her mind occupied, so that she doesn't realize that her hands are shaking and her stomach is cramping, and so she doesn't reach for the bottle of pills that's still on her bed.

Because, god help her, right now she wants nothing more. There's no one here to stop her, and she doesn't have the strength to stop herself anymore.

**Three miles.**

That's how far Aria gets after the phone call before her conscience gets the better of her. It happens suddenly – a flash of light, a burst of clarity. She slams on the brakes, does a dangerously quick turn, and is headed back to Rosewood in under a minute.

Even while Spencer was in Radley, she never sounded this bad. Radley was just a temporary thing, and somewhere deep down they all knew that. Like her parents had said, Spencer had gone there for exhaustion – she was tired of being strong, of being hunted down by A, of trying to keep it all together when the world was falling down around them. Aria knows better than anyone what that feels like. What she doesn't know is how Spencer ever came back from it, because Aria's beginning to feel like her own breakdown is more permanent.

She passes the Welcome to Rosewood sign and suppresses a shiver. She's driving about ten miles above the speed limit, her hands clenched around the steering wheel, her body rigid and shoulders tense. Trashing Ezra's apartment had been reckless, she'll admit that; but it had made her feel better for about half a minute, and right now she'll take what she can get

She pulls up outside the Hastings house, still undecided. She could turn around and drive away; by morning there would be no trace of her. But she has a feeling that if she leaves, there might not be any trace of Spencer by morning either.

**Forty nine states.**

For the life of her, Spencer can't remember the fiftieth. She's tried listing them alphabetically, according to population, and even population growth over the last decade, and she's still getting stuck. She's muttering them under her breath when she hears footsteps, and then a tentative knock on her door.

"Go away," she mumbles, not opening her eyes. She wraps her arms around her knees, squeezes her eyes closed more tightly, and keeps muttering. "Florida, Georgia, Hawaii…"

She's up to Maryland when the door opens, and this time she does open her eyes. Aria is standing in the doorway, and they share a look that breaks both their hearts. For a long moment neither of them speaks. Then Aria closes the door behind her, offering her a tiny smile.

If Spencer could properly remember how to speak, she'd tell her that she's grateful she's here.

**Six steps.**

That's all it takes to cross the room, and then Aria is by Spencer's side. While Aria is all white-hot rage and irritability, Spencer is the picture of desolation and despair. Aria quietly sits down beside her; she knows better than to touch her, but she hopes her presence might be enough to make a difference.

"You okay?" Aria asks, and Spencer gives a half-shrug. Aria nods, understanding. She leans back against the wall, fiddling with a piece of ribbon she found on the floor. "I was already past Ravenswood by the time you called."

Spencer hesitates. "Where…" She clears her throat and tries again. "Where were you going?"

"I don't know." Aria ties the ribbon into a bow, then wrenches it apart. "I just needed to escape."

On another night, Aria knows that Spencer would comfort her, like Hanna and Emily had tried to do today. But Spencer's so out of it that Aria begins to wonder if she even knows she's here. As if to answer her question, Spencer looks up, _almost_ meeting Aria's gaze.

"I'm really glad you're here."

**Fifty two seconds.**

But it feels like a lifetime of silence. Spencer drops her gaze again, rubbing off some ink stains on her hand, trying not to think of the pills sitting on her bed. But her eyes drift over to them, and Aria follows her gaze.

Before Spencer can object, Aria is on her feet, standing by the bed, holding up the bottle. "I thought you said you were done with these."

Spencer tilts her head, trying to work out the inflection. Is Aria angry? Is she disappointed? Which would be worse? "I lied," Spencer says, and Aria's grip on the bottle tightens. Realizing she owes her friend an explanation, Spencer licks her dry lips and then says, in a voice so small she can barely hear herself, "I'm not strong enough to stop, Aria."

Aria makes a noise that's halfway between a sob and a laugh. She puts the bottle back on the bed and sits down beside Spencer again. "You really think you're not strong?"

This time it's Spencer's turn to laugh. She runs a hand through her tangled hair, imagining how dishevelled and unkempt she must look. "See for yourself," she says with grim humor. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of a mess."

"In case _you_ haven't noticed," Aria retorts gently, reaching out to take one of Spencer's hands in her own, "so am I."

**Two glasses of water.**

After that, both girls feel like they can speak again. Spencer holds the empty glass with one hand, and the other is still holding Aria's hand. Somehow it seems to help, this physical reminder that she's not alone. Her body responds in a way her mind can't, and it helps to ease the aching loneliness that comes from having disconnected so completely. She squeezes Aria's hand, silently thanking her.

"How did you do it?" Aria asks after a while. She's looking straight ahead, at a tiny stain on the wall opposite. She's vulnerable now, she knows, and she can't stand to look at her friend, to let Spencer see the Aria's insecurities and fears written across her face. "When Toby… when you thought he betrayed you. How did you get through it?"

Spencer rolls her shoulders, then closes her eyes as if the effort made her dizzy. But when she opens them again, there's a glint of amusement, like the old Spencer is trying to fight her way back to the surface. "If you recall, I stayed out in the woods all night and got picked up by the park ranger, and then I ended up in a psych ward for so long you guys started to think I actually was crazy." She gives Aria a sideways look, a smile playing around the edges of her mouth. "I'm not exactly a great role model."

"But you're a great friend," Aria says, "and you're one of the strongest people I know."

**Nine deep breaths.**

"One more," Aria says, and Spencer complies.

To her surprise, she does feel slightly better. It occurs to her that she's meant to be comforting Aria, not the other way around. Aria has been here for almost half an hour now, and she's sat quietly while Spencer shook and moaned and all but pleaded for just one more pill, just one to get her through the night. Now the worst of it seems to be subsiding, and Spencer pulls her hand away from Aria's, clasping her hands in her lap and taking one last deep breath.

"There," Aria says soothingly. "Are you feeling any better?"

Spencer exhales slowly, then turns to her friend. "I feel good enough to ask you how _you're_ doing."

Aria blanches, but she doesn't try to change the subject. "I just feel so stupid," she admits after a while. "He used me for information. I let him get close to me, and to all of us, and I just… I can't believe I was so naïve."

"You were in love," Spencer reminds her gently. "He had us all fooled. You couldn't have known."

"I should have," Aria shoots back, and since Spencer knows that the venom in her voice isn't directed at her, she lets it pass. "Why would someone like _him_ ever be interested in someone like _me_?"

"Hey." Spencer pushes herself into a more upright position, wincing with the effort of doing so. "Aria. Look at me. You are not allowed to let a creep like Ezra make you doubt your own worth, okay? You're bright, and creative, and you deserve so much better than that bastard could ever give you."

For some reason, this makes Aria giggle. After a moment Spencer joins in, and it feels good. God, how long has it been since she's laughed?

"Thank you," Aria says when the laughter dies down.

Spencer shakes her head slowly, disbelievingly. "I should be thanking _you_," she says, her gaze sliding past Aria and landing on the half-obscured pill bottle. "If you hadn't shown up when you did, I might have taken those."

"And if you hadn't called when you did, I'd be halfway to Alabama by now," Aria says, sounding half-serious.

Spencer suddenly sits up straight. "Alabama!" she announces gleefully. "That's the state I was missing."

And then they're both laughing again.

**Twelve pages.**

It's a collection of Shakespeare's works that Spencer had lying around, and the girls are taking turns reading from it. They pick a chapter at random and act it out – Aria pacing up and down the room, Spencer staying seated on the ground. They get through twelve pages before they give up, and now there's more smiles than silence, slightly more humor than hopelessness.

"You make a pretty good Macbeth," Spencer says appreciatively.

Aria grins. All that pacing and gesticulating and dramatic exclaiming has helped to calm her down a bit. Her nervous, furious energy is fading, and she knows that soon exhaustion will kick in and take over. But not before she knows Spencer is okay.

She puts the book back on Spencer's desk and comes back beside her. Spencer's shaking has faded into more of a tremble, and Aria's fury is more like a distant indignation. She shudders to think what would have happened if she hadn't answered the phone tonight.

The last of their negativity begins to drain away, leaving behind a silence that vaguely resembles peaceful. They're a long way from healed, but they're further away from a breakdown now.

Aria rests her head against Spencer's shoulder, and for a moment both girls tense at the contact, having been used to pushing people away. But then they both relax, remembering the bonds that hold them together and the fact that they need each other.

"I love you, Spence," Aria whispers.

Spencer smiles. "I love you too, Aria."

**11.11.**

Spencer glances at the clock and then away again, landing on Aria, who's still resting on her shoulder. "Eleven-eleven," Spencer says quietly.

Aria looks up at her, with a smile that almost hides the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "What?"

"Make a wish." Spencer reaches out a still-trembling hand and strokes Aria's hair, an age-old non-verbal gesture of comfort.

Aria thinks for a few seconds. Then her smile widens, and she puts her head back on Spencer's shoulder. "I don't need wishes when I have friends like you."

They stay that way for a long time, finding solace in the silence and comfort in the closeness of their bodies, the rhythmic beating of their hearts and their breathing. And in the darkness they both find a tiny scrap of peace, and they hold onto it with everything they've got.

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**(Just for info, when I try listing all fifty states I invariably forget Oregon or Maryland.)**

**Okay. So there you have it. Don't forget to review, and maybe check out my other stories?**


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